Trick or Treat
by MagsRose
Summary: The undercover operation all depends on Langly's willingness to wear a Flamenco dress.


**Trick or Treat**

**Author:** MagsRose  
**Category:** Gen  
**Rating: **FRM for sexual situation  
**Summary:** This is in response to a challenge that Meghan posted in October 2004.  
**Disclaimers:** Not mine. Nope. No matter how much I want them, I can't have them.  
**Acknowledgements**: Thank you to Amy Jonas who is my wonderful beta and idea generator.  
**Feedback:** Yes, please. It's nice to know that people read this stuff.  
**Notes:** Here is proof that I can write a story without that bothersome kid in it.  
**More notes:** The challenge was to include the following elements in a story:

**Required elements:**  
1. An unusual costume choice (voluntary or not)  
2. A kiss  
3. Someone saying, "I can't believe you'd wear that"  
4. Pumpkin raisin cookies

**Bonus Optional elements:**  
1. Guinness  
2. Scully kissing Frohike and she's in a skimpy costume  
3. Doggett in a dance outfit   
4. Getting arrested for public indecency or lewdness

"No, no, NO!"

"Come on," insisted Frohike. "Stop acting like such a spoiled brat!"

Langly turned to glare at the older man. "I'm not going to wear this." He held out the costume with two fingers, keeping it as far away from his body as possible.

Byers tried to placate the blond hacker. "It will only be for the evening. No one you know will be there."

"You'll be there and all the Fibbies. I'm not doing this."

"Doggett needs a partner and you're the only one who'll fit in the costume," Frohike pointed out.

"One of the girls can wear it."

"We've gone through this. The stakeout is tonight. The girls are all too short and we don't have time to alter the costume. With all the beads and sequins, it could take hours." Byers explained.

"You wear it," Langly said thrusting the Flamenco dress at Byers.

"I have a beard, you don't."

"You could shave."

"He's not shaving," Frohike insisted.

"Jimmy can wear it then," Langly said pointing at the younger man who'd managed to stay out of the argument until that moment.

"I was willing to do it but I couldn't even get my arms in the sleeves."

"How convenient," Langly sneered making a face at Jimmy.

Unconcerned by Langly's attitude, Jimmy flexed a bicep. "Maybe you just need to work out more."

Seeing Langly bristle at that comment, Frohike walked over to him and picked the costume up off the floor where he'd dropped it. "Look, what's it going to take to get you to do this, because we have no other choice."

Langly sat down in the nearest computer chair. He continued to glower at those standing over him. Sensing it was inevitable, Langly decided to at least get something out of it. "Pumpkin Raisin Cookies," he said.

Jimmy and Byers glanced at each other. Byers shrugged turning to Frohike. "What's he talking about?"

"That's what it's going to take to get me to do this," Langly explained. "I want Fro to make me Pumpkin Raisin Cookies."

Frohike narrowed his eyes at Langly as if carefully considering this request. "I don't know, buddy. Those damn cookies are messy and nasty to make. Are you sure there isn't something else you'd rather have?"

"No, it's the cookies or nothing!"

Frohike motioned for Byers and Jimmy to join him in a private conference. "You gonna bake him the cookies?" Jimmy asked when they were far enough away to insure privacy. "I can help if you need it."

"No, that's okay," said Frohike. "Those cookies are not that difficult to make. But don't tell him that or he'd be bugging me to make them all the time."

Knitting his eyebrows together, Jimmy asked, "Then why are we over here whispering?"

Frohike's lips lifted on one side in a lopsided grin. "To make him think it's a tough decision."

All three of them turned to glance back at Langly who was holding the Flamenco dress against his chest to check the fit. "I'm going to need some fake boobs," he shouted to his three friends.

"And some padding for your ass," Frohike pointed out from across the room.

"What's wrong with my ass?" Langly said spinning around trying to get a good look at his backside.

"There's not enough of it," Byers said, trying to be helpful. "Come on, I'll help you get dressed. We need to leave in about an hour."

"What about make-up?"

"Yves's coming," Jimmy informed them. "She said not to let any of you try to do his make up or he'd end up looking like a prostitute."

Agent Doggett was standing outside the nightclub waiting for the Gunmen to arrive. Agents Reyes and Scully were already inside and Mulder, dressed in a werewolf suit, had taken the place of one of the bouncers at the front door. The costume party was for a very exclusive clientele and his presence guaranteed them entrance into the club.

Doggett glanced at his watch. If the others didn't arrive soon…

A limo pulled up to the curb in front of him. The door opened and a man in a Batman suit stepped out. He turned to help a woman in a skin-tight Cat Woman costume. Agent Doggett did a double take. "Jimmy? Yves?"

The man behind the mask smiled. "Yup, it's us."

Doggett stepped out of the way as the blue Power Ranger next climbed out of the car. With the mask on, the FBI agent could only guess who it was. "Byers?"

The blue super hero simply nodded.

Doggett suppressed a laugh. "I can't believe you'd wear that!"

Byers removed the mask. "It was supposed to be Langly's costume. He didn't want it to go to waste. What could I do?"

"You could get the hell out of the way," a man complained.

The FBI agent recognized the voice but it in no way went with the person he was looking at. The woman, who was quite tall, was stunningly made up with a long black wig. The red sequined Flamenco dress was made to match Agent Doggett's own costume. His high-waisted pants and red jacket were not as opulent as his partner's dress but the dance outfit was still amazing for the simple fact that it must have taken hours to do the beadwork on the jacket alone.

Frohike came around the car. He wore a trench coat and a fedora and looked very much the part of a 1940s private detective. "Langly," he said in a low voice to his disguised friend, "you're supposed to be a woman. Act like it."

Langly tripped over the hem of his dress. Agent Doggett grabbed him in time to keep him from falling on his face. Langly straightened up attempting to regain his dignity. He jerked his arm out of Doggett's grasp. "Try to cop a feel again, G-man, and I'll stick a spiked heel so far up where the sun don't shine it will take a surgeon to remove it."

Frohike moved in to tell Langly to cool off but Agent Doggett spoke up first. "Thanks for doing this, Langly. These suspects were told I'd be wearing this outfit and my partner would have a dress that matched. We couldn't do this without you."

"Yeah, well…" Langly found it difficult to stay pissy when the object of his disgust was being so polite. "You owe me big for this."

"Yes, I do." Doggett admitted. "Are you ready to go?"

"Hang on," said Yves to Langly. "You need this to complete the illusion." She held out what looked like a retainer. Langly rolled his eyes but put apparatus in his mouth nestling it up against his palate.

"All right, say something."

"The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain," said Langly in a lilting female voice with just a hint of a British accent.

Yves grinned at the appropriateness of the quote. "Very nice, Eliza." Turning to Agent Doggett she said, "Take good care of our girl."

Langly chose to say nothing to that comment, knowing that what he wanted to say would sound ridiculous with his new voice. Instead, he took Doggett's offered arm and the two of them headed for the nightclub's front door. The others followed in their wake like an oddly clad entourage.

At the door, Mulder growled at them, asking for their invitations. He pretended to examine each in turn. As he scanned Jimmy and Yves's, he said, "But this is a costume party, Yves." He paused to let the his comment sink in. "You're not wearing a costume."

"I wouldn't talk if I were you, Mulder. Your alter ego is showing and there isn't even a full moon."

Once inside the club, everyone spread out. Doggett and Langly took a conspicuous table by the dance floor. Jimmy and Yves found a spot in the shadows near the back where they could remain unseen yet still keep a close eye on the goings on in the club.

Byers and Frohike went in search of their partners for the evening. They found the two women seated at the bar both dressed in red. Agent Reyes was Little Red Riding Hood complete with picnic basket.

"Byers?" Monica said. "Is that you under that mask?"

The blue Power Ranger nodded.

Taking Byers's offered hand, Monica stepped down off her bar stool. "It's nice to know that, at least for this evening, I'll be safe from all the wolves."

Frohike had so far said nothing as he gazed at Agent Scully. She was enjoying his inability to turn his thoughts into words. "Frohike," she said, "do you want to sit at the bar or find a table."

"Scully, I…"

"To tell you the truth, I wouldn't mind finding a table somewhere warmer. It's a bit drafty right here."

Frohike watched as Scully slid off her stool and adjusted the red, high cut bathing suit she was wearing.

"Baywatch?" Frohike finally managed to ask after noticing the yellow logo on the suit just above her left hip.

"You got it," Scully replied with more than a little satisfaction. "It sure took you long enough considering what a famous detective you are."

Regaining his composure, Frohike favored her with a lopsided smile. He ran his thumb and forefinger along the front brim of his hat pulling the fedora a little lower over his left eye. In his best imitation of Humphrey Bogart, he said, "That's right, schweetheart."

Scully turned back to the bar to fetch the life preserver that completed her costume and the half empty glass of Guiness she'd been drinking.

Once they'd found a warmer place to sit, they watched for their suspects. Doggett and Langly were clearly visible from their vantage point. Frohike heard Langly's disguised voice come over his headset. "Doggett says he sees them. The three Musketeers on the right side of the bandstand."

"Got 'em," Frohike said then relayed the message to Scully. He heard Yves give a similar reply and Byers's clear response. Langly had rigged a headset inside the Power Ranger mask making it possible for Byers to talk to them without removing it.

"What about the woman?" Yves asked. "Her costume is from the same time period as the group of men." The lady in question was resplendently decked out in a satin dress, coated with lace and sparkling gems. She also wore a tall, white powered wig and a long string of pearls.

"Doggett says he's not sure. All he was told was that there would be three men."

Frohike watched the woman carefully. She stood very close to the Musketeers, as close as the hoop in her skirt would allow. Occasionally she would say something to the man closest to her. "She's either with them or a terrible flirt."

"It doesn't matter now," noted Langly, "cuz here they come."

Two of the men skirted the dance floor heading to the other side where Doggett and Langly waited. The third man stayed with the woman.

Frohike watched as the two Musketeers spoke briefly with Doggett. One then held his hand out to Langly. He couldn't hear what the man said, but Frohike had to assume it was an invitation to dance.

When Langly hesitated, Scully said, "Tell him to get up and go with the man."

"Langly," Frohike hissed into his mike. "Take his hand and go out onto the dance floor."

"Oh, I don't know if I should," Langly said in his fake voice. "Don't let the costume fool you. I'm not that good a dancer."

"Damn it, Langly, get up! Just follow his lead, it's not that hard."

Although when standing, Langly was a full head taller than his partner, he managed to get his arms in the right position and, with a modicum of grace, he followed the man around the dance floor.

Frohike shifted his focus to Agent Doggett who was deep in conversation with the second Musketeer. "You get all this, Byers?" Frohike asked.

"Yes." The Power Ranger helmet was also rigged with a tiny camera to record the proceedings. The signal was being fed to the equipment in the VW bus, which was parked in the loading dock behind the nightclub. "But I can only tape Doggett and his contact," said Byers. "Are you taping Langly and his partner, Yves?"

"Yes, I am. But the third man and the woman are moving off," Yves noted. "Frohike, can you and Scully follow them?"

"We got it."

Agent Scully had noticed the departure of their last two suspects so needed no explanation when Frohike stood up to leave the table. He took her hand as if leading her to the dance floor.

They paused beside the bandstand, scanning the crowd for any sign of their suspects. Scully pointed to a stage door that seemed to be ajar.

Cautiously opening the door, Frohike checked the alley behind the nightclub. He saw nothing out of the ordinary: just a couple of dumpsters, a stack of wooden pallets and their parked VW bus.

"Stay here," he told Scully. "You're not dressed to be outside."

"Frohike, I survived the Antarctic. I can put up with a bit of chilly weather in an alley."

Having no further argument, Frohike held the door open for her to exit the club.

They searched one end of the alley with no luck. Heading back the other way, they noticed movement between the Lone Gunman's van and the wall it was parked beside. Scully had no gun; her costume offered no place to wear it discreetly.

Approaching cautiously, they heard moaning. They exchanged worried glances both having the same thought in mind; the man had done something to the woman, injuring her and had left her in the alley to die.

They split up, Scully going around the front of the van, Frohike the back.

Frohike came around his side and had to stifle a laugh. The moaning they'd heard was not painful moaning. The woman was completely nude except for the wig and the string of pearls. Her costume lay like a puddle of satin on the ground, the hoop that gave it its shape on top of it.

The man had his arms against the wall, one on each side of the woman and they were well into it. So much so, that they were totally oblivious to the fact that they had company.

Scully's eyes met Frohike's around the couple. She shook her head and smirked at Frohike. "All right, all right!" she said loudly enough to get their attention. "FBI, break it up!"

Letting Scully deal with the overly amorous couple, Frohike adjusted his headset. "We've got our suspects," he said. "How are you all doing?"

Byers came on first. "Doggett has his suspect on tape asking for the money and a sample of the chemicals in hand. He's just waiting for the other guy and Langly to come back to the table. They're still dancing."

"Tell me you're getting this on video."

"You bet your ass I am." Byers said before bursting out laughing.

"What?"

"Langly just got dipped!"

The local police took care of Frohike and Scully's suspects. Both were charged with public lewdness. Scully eventually admitted to Frohike that she was getting too cold and accepted his offer for the use of his trench coat.

Frohike paced back and forth at the entrance of the alley. He was impatient to get back inside but the cops kept insisting they had a few more questions. And without his coat, he was now the one getting cold.

Scully had been deep in conversation with a police lieutenant for more than fifteen minutes. Fro suspected that she was explaining their whole undercover operation.

Shaking her head, Scully came back to where he was waiting. "The police chief is coming. She wants to ask us some questions, too."

Frohike fought the urge to complain. He checked his watch. Scully noticed his hand looked a bit blue. She took it in both of hers. "You're freezing!'

He pulled his hand out of hers. "No, I'm fine. We'll be back inside soon enough."

Scully unbuttoned the coat. "No," Frohike insisted, "I'm not taking it back. You have far less on than I do."

With a mischievous smile, Scully said, "But it's big enough for two."

Frohike's eyes widened in surprise. She couldn't be serious.

Scully held the coat open like a flasher waiting for her victim to notice. Frohike had trouble tearing his eyes away from her body clad in nothing more than the tight red bathing suit with leg holes cut so high they left very little to the imagination.

When he continue to hesitate, she said, "Come on, Mel. Now I'm getting cold."

Using his first name was something she seldom, if ever, did. This was enough to convince him that her invitation was sincere, that she was not teasing as he'd first thought.

He moved closer to her allowing her to wrap the front of the coat around his body. He felt silly keeping his arms at his side so he slid them up behind her back.

"They say that the best way to prevent hypothermia is to share body heat," Scully said pulling him closer. This really wasn't necessary because her nearness was making him quite warm enough. But he didn't complain.

"You know, Mel. A girl could lose interest if she has to wait too long for a guy to make his first move."

"First move?" Frohike chuckled. "I made my first move when Mulder brought you to meet us."

"Telling Mulder that I'm 'hot' is not my idea of an acceptable move."

Frohike became serious. "I thought my attraction to you was obvious. I figured you knew but had other ideas."

"Well, I'm not waiting any longer for Mulder to get his act together. Not with someone better waiting in the wings."

Scully pulled back from him so she could see his face. With one finger, she pushed the hat farther back on his head. Running the tip of her tongue over her lips, she closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly to one side. The invitation for a kiss was undeniable. Likewise closing his eyes, Frohike moved in to accept the invitation.

Her lips were soft and sweet, tasting vaguely of cherries. Her tongue brushed his teeth as…

"What the hell are you two doing?" a muffled voice asked.

They moved apart to see Mulder in his werewolf costume standing nearby.

"Are you so out of practice yourself that you don't know a kiss when you see one," Scully asked him with a grin.

Mulder pulled off his mask. Frohike was relieved to see that he was smiling. "Was that what you were doing? I think Frohike needs to work on his technique. He seems a bit rusty."

"Hey, I'm sure it's better than you can do," Frohike shot back, also grinning. Obviously, this development was no surprise to Mulder.

"Come on inside," Mulder said getting back to why he'd come looking for them. "We're nearly wrapped up in there and are just about ready to go."

"We're supposed to wait here for the police chief," Scully explained.

"She's inside. Come in out of the cold." Mulder smirked at them. "That is unless you want to go back to what you were doing?"

Back at the warehouse later that night, the Gunmen and Yves along with all four FBI agents sat around discussing their successful bust of the criminals. Byers was surprised that Langly was still wearing the costume he had fought so hard against earlier that day.

He was sitting in an overstuffed chair with his legs over one arm. He had shed his wig and put his glasses back on but had not removed the makeup. The skirt of the dress hung down the front of the chair and out across the floor. Everyone else had to walk out and around it so as not to step on the sequined fabric.

Balancing a plate of pumpkin raisin cookies on his stomach, he occasionally ate one and forced anyone else that wanted some to tell him what a spectacular undercover job he'd done. A bottle of beer sat on the floor within easy reach.

Langly didn't even mind when they played back the tape of him on the dance floor. The scene of him getting dipped was viewed again and again to the delight of just about everyone in the room.

"That guy was a pretty good dancer," Langly said after they watched him spin around the dance floor for about the sixth time.

"You didn't do too bad yourself," Frohike said from the couch. Scully, now wearing a robe over her skimpy costume, was seated beside him.

"Yeah," Langly said watching the screen, "I did all right." He reached into the front of his dress and pulled a business card out of his bra and held it up for the others to see. "I even got his phone number. We've got a date for next weekend." He slipped the card back into his bra. "It's a good thing he's in jail."

"Why?" Jimmy asked.

"He was so hot for me," Langly replied. "I'd hate to have to break his heart."


End file.
